Close Shave
by Gracielinn
Summary: Lucy and her younger self had been sitting at one of the kitchen tables, immersed in tedious research when younger Wyatt ambled around the corner, and gazing up at him, it struck her suddenly how long it had been since her Wyatt had abandoned his razor... Future Lucy POV, post Season Two finale (TFP)


Close Shave

 _A/N #1: This story is my response to the following June Timeless Fanfic Prompt (#4): Resolve something from the Season 2 finale..._

It wasn't difficult for Lucy to pinpoint the exact moment the idea popped into her head. Not long past supper the day after she and Wyatt arrived back in 2018, she and her younger self had been sitting at one of the kitchen tables, immersed in tedious research, when younger Wyatt had ambled around the corner, and gazing up at him as he smiled shyly at the two women, it struck her suddenly how long it had been since her Wyatt had abandoned his razor. Admittedly, it had taken some getting used to, but Lucy found she didn't really mind the bushy facial hair except for the fact that under that shaggy beard, Wyatt Logan possessed a very handsome face (in any time line). Plus-to her at least-it seemed almost a crime against nature to practically cover up those adorable dimples of his. Her attention briefly wandering, Lucy smirked inwardly at the thought of her tough Delta Force soldier having an 'adorable' anything.

The past five years since losing Rufus had been a tumultuous mix of love, fear, joy, pain, happiness, and regret, as the team not only worked desperately to find a way to prevent his death, but valiantly waged all-out war against Rittenhouse as well. The oh-so-sexy scruff that Wyatt preferred at the time of their first meeting nearly seven years ago had by sheer necessity grown into an extremely low maintenance set of whiskers. And to be fair to him, it wasn't like _her_ appearance hadn't changed either, just months from now, in fact...

 _Flashback_

After coming perilously close to getting her throat slit by Emma's overly-zealous new second in command, Jessica Logan-the blonde had grabbed a big handful of Lucy's long hair and jerked her head back in preparation for the killing stroke before thankfully, Flynn's shot had grazed her shoulder-a shaken Lucy had returned from the mission and demanded that someone, anyone, cut her hair or she would do it herself.

Denise Christopher and the male members of the team merely stared at her in stunned silence like she was deranged or something worse while a sympathetic Jiya retrieved a large pair of scissors from the kitchen before escorting her into the bathroom for the impromptu haircut. Sitting on the closed toilet seat, Lucy pressed her trembling lips together and shut her eyes tightly when the thick, wavy strands of hair began to fall off her shoulders to the floor as her friend painstakingly cut and snipped. Aside from periodic trims, Lucy hadn't had short hair since she was a toddler, and she already felt the loss of one of her few vanities keenly. Finally, with a satisfied sigh, Jiya put down the shears and surveyed her handiwork thoughtfully before informing Lucy she could open her eyes.

Slowly getting to her feet, absently brushing stray hairs from her shirt, Lucy hesitantly approached the row of mirrors above the sinks, steeling herself for the first glimpse of her new hairstyle. Glancing at her reflection, she bit back a shocked gasp as she beheld her appearance. Considering the circumstances, the now approximately chin-length bob actually wasn't all that bad, just really different ( _she told herself bravely_ ). "Not to brag or anything, but it sorta looks cute, right? And I think I left you enough length to pull it up in a knot or maybe a short ponytail," Jiya observed cheerfully before bending down and gathering up small piles of black hair from the floor while Lucy tilted her head around at different angles for a better look.

Turning from the mirror, Lucy met the other woman's concerned glance with as much false bravado as she could manage. "It looks great, Jiya, honestly, and I was probably overdue for a change anyway..." she began, before abruptly choking back a sob, her eyes filling with tears. Her friend instantly stepped forward and wrapping her arms around Lucy's thin shoulders, murmured meaningless words of comfort as Lucy helplessly cried for what felt like possibly the last thing she had left besides her very life to sacrifice to Rittenhouse. Her luxurious raven-dark locks, always so different from her mother and sister's lighter colored hair, were just more collateral damage, consigned to the ever-growing list of things the crazy secret organization had methodically taken from her ( _like every single member of her immediate family, a treasured friend and teammate, and her career, just to name a few_ ).

Jiya patiently indulged her for several minutes before leaning back and grabbing a clump of toilet paper, handed it to Lucy. After wiping her eyes and blowing her nose, Lucy resolutely straightened her shoulders and walked out of the bathroom, determined not to succumb to self pity, not over something as trivial as her appearance. Her cheeks burned when she caught sight of the rest of the team hovering awkwardly just outside the door. Holding her head high, Lucy nodded stiffly at their surprised expressions and pushing past them, quickly headed to her room, fully aware of Wyatt's faithful presence a couple feet behind her.

Reaching the open door, Lucy stopped unexpectedly, grinning in spite of her distress when the usually agile Master Sergeant barely avoided knocking her through the doorway. "Whoa, easy there, Lucy," he cautioned gently, putting his large hand reassuringly between her narrow shoulder blades. She shivered at his close proximity and the warmth of his breath on her newly-exposed neck.

Spinning on her heels, Lucy pulled him all the way into the room and shut the door before stepping into his personal space and looking directly into Wyatt's dark blue eyes, begged shamelessly, "Please, tell me the truth, I look terrible, don't I?" When he frowned slightly and almost immediately shook his head in denial, Lucy slowly released the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

Putting his hand on her cheek, Wyatt gazed into her eyes and said earnestly, "Lucy Preston, you couldn't look terrible if you tried," before pulling her into a comforting hug.

She buried her face in his chest and mumbled, "You probably think I sound like a vain, self-absorbed idiot," and Lucy's heart lightened when he held her closer and chuckled, "Hmm, let me see, now that you mention it..."

Leaning back, a slow smile blossoming on her face, she teased, "So, in other words, I'm not hideous or anything?" and to her delight, a faint blush darkened Wyatt's cheeks at the reminder of his awkward attempt at flirting with her beside Hedy Lamarr's pool in 1941.

Wyatt rolled his eyes and groaned good naturedly, "Damn, Lucy, are you ever gonna let me forget that less than smooth line I tried to lay on you that night? Give me a break here, Professor-I was kind of out of practice, and maybe just a little nervous..."

Shaking her head, Lucy gazed at him with fond exasperation before scoffing, "Yeah, right, a guy who looks like you, nervous around someone like me?" But her amusement faded at the solemn expression that swiftly appeared on Wyatt's face as he paused to consider his words.

Clearing his throat softly, he murmured, "I think if I remember correctly, I've already told you how I feel about you, Lucy," and she caught her breath at the unguarded emotion blazing from Wyatt's azure eyes. This time, when Lucy leisurely reached up and pulled his lips to hers, there was no interruption, and every doubt, every hurt suffered by both of them since Jessica had been maliciously restored to their time line by Rittenhouse was erased for good.

When she woke a couple hours later, an extremely relaxed Lucy was quite pleased by the intimate way she and Wyatt were entwined around each other on her narrow cot. " _If only we could stay like this forever, just the two of us,_ " she thought wistfully, before stretching sinuously against him, thrilled by the low groan he uttered before tightening his strong arms around her.

"Be still, woman, are you trying to torture me?" he scolded half-heartedly, nuzzling the side of her neck, but Lucy was so blissed out, she couldn't bring herself to feel the tiniest bit of sympathy for him. She closed her eyes in sheer contentment when Wyatt began gently stroking her shorn hair. "Lucy, I'm sorry that you had to cut off your beautiful hair, but it was probably the right thing to do," and when she opened her eyes and gazed up at him quizzically, Wyatt elaborated somberly, "I think we are all aware now that your long hair made you vulnerable, and Jessica, who has obviously been well trained-likely by Emma herself-took full advantage of that, and as a result, nearly killed you..."

Wyatt swallowed hard before continuing, "I never thought I'd ever say this, but thank God for Garcia Flynn. He saved your life today, Lucy, when I wasn't able to, and that's a debt I can never repay."

Her heart aching at the fear in his voice and the all-too-familiar stubborn set of his jaw, Lucy held Wyatt close and murmured, "Hey, c'mon, you can't be everywhere at once, so stop beating yourself up." When he refused to meet her gaze, Lucy put both hands on his face and looking deeply into his troubled blue eyes, asked, "If I tell you a secret, will you promise to try and stop worrying about me so much? Wyatt, please?" After a long moment, he reluctantly nodded, although knowing Wyatt Logan all too well, she knew the subject wasn't closed for good, not by a long shot.

Taking a deep breath, Lucy tried to squash the butterflies that suddenly took up residence in her stomach. Acutely aware that this was one of the most important moments in her life, and the journey to this point had been long and angst filled for both of them, she wanted it to be perfect. "Wyatt, that day we lost Rufus, before our future selves arrived, do you remember what you said to me when we were sitting on the floor together?"

Waiting with no small amount of trepidation to make certain he understood where she was going with this, Lucy was greatly relieved when Wyatt's doubting expression began to clear, even as his eyes darkened with emotion. "Yeah," he answered cautiously, his warm, calloused hands holding her even more closely to him.

" _It's now or never, Lucy, all in because this man needs to hear the words,_ " she reassured herself before whispering breathlessly, "I love you, too, and just like you told me that day, _I'm_ sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but everything was just so messed up for a while with Jessica, and then Rufus was killed, and..." Lucy's feelings tumbled heedlessly from her lips in her eagerness to finally share with him everything she felt, at least until Wyatt's lips closed over hers possessively, and then no further words were necessary.

And from that moment on, they had been nearly inseparable, united not only by their deep, abiding love for each other, but the dangerous, all-encompassing mission to destroy Rittenhouse...

 _End Flashback_

Without warning, Lucy was startled from her thoughts by the hesitant touch on her arm of a slim hand so very much like hers ( _"Well, except for all my hard-won 'battle' scars,"_ she thought wryly). Her younger self peered curiously at her and asked, "Hey, are you alright? You looked like you were a million miles away just now," and only stared at her in confusion when Lucy chuckled quietly.

"I'm sorry," Lucy apologized to the other woman, her mind already racing with possibilities, "But an idea just popped into my head, and it might sound crazy, but you know what? There's something I'd like to do, but I think I could use your help," and she was gratified by the warm smile of agreement her younger self directed across the table. Putting their dark heads together, the two Lucys hastily began working out the details.

Luckily, younger Lucy had persuaded her Wyatt to keep his older self busy with a sparring session for an hour or so, and by the time he entered their room, all bright-eyed and sweaty from a proper Delta Force workout, Lucy had managed to have just about everything ready. "Hey, cowboy, I've got a surprise for you," she announced pertly, "But I need you to grab a shower first, okay?" Thrusting a towel and a well-worn pair of sweat pants into his hands, Lucy put her hands on his broad shoulders and gently pushed him back through the door. Clearly intrigued, Wyatt merely raised one dark brow before abruptly pulling her flush against his lean, well-muscled body, laughing when Lucy crinkled her nose in (not altogether) fake disgust. "Eww, Wyatt, stop it, you're going to make me all sweaty, too," she chided unthinkingly.

Naturally, she was helpless to prevent the hot blush that crept across her cheeks when he instantly replied, "Well, now, sweetheart, that's the whole idea, isn't it?" and he began kissing the side of her neck. Momentarily distracted, it was a long, delicious moment later when Lucy pulled back, but not before pressing one last hard kiss to his firm lips even as she was peeling her body from his and shooing him out of the room.

"Behave yourself, Wyatt Logan. I promise you'll like this surprise, and the faster you get cleaned up, the sooner you'll get your reward," She yelped when without warning, he swatted her on the bottom before nodding agreeably, a wicked gleam in his blue eyes as he turned and made his way down the corridor to the bathroom, cheerfully whistling some long-forgotten country song. Staring after him, Lucy marveled at the way her heart seemed to continuously overflow with so much love for this man. Even after five years together, the intensity of her feelings never failed to amaze her.

Not even ten minutes later, a freshly-showered Wyatt sauntered in, trademark smirk firmly in place. Lucy almost laughed out loud when he came to a sudden stop, blue eyes glinting suspiciously, and asked, "What's all this?" Ignoring his question, she took him by the hand and tugging him toward the kitchen chair she dragged into the room, ordered him to have a seat. Obediently, Wyatt sat down, gazing up at her expectantly.

"You know how much I love you, right?" Without hesitation, he nodded. "Do you trust me?" Lucy asked softly, gratified when he nodded again and answered, "Yes, Ma'am."

"Good, now, I need you to hold very still, alright?" as she draped a bath towel around his bare shoulders. As requested, Wyatt didn't move a muscle, never once taking his eyes off her while a suddenly nervous Lucy began to follow the instructions Connor Mason had so helpfully provided, along with the use of his spare, old-fashioned shaving kit.

Fortunately, Wyatt's hot shower helped soften his beard some, making her task a little easier. After using manicure scissors to trim away most of his shaggy facial hair down to a much more manageable stubble, even tidying up his mustache, Lucy deftly applied shaving cream to Wyatt's face with a stiff brush, swirling the lather smoothly over his cheekbones.

Intent on what she was doing, Lucy eventually became aware of his large hands resting loosely on her slender hips, and smiling down at him lovingly, asked, "You doing okay there, Master Sergeant?" and she easily interpreted his contented hum as "yes." Using a single blade razor, Lucy precisely scraped with the grain of Wyatt's face and shaved his cheeks clean before using the edge of his towel to dab away the shaving cream remnants.

To finish up, she put a small amount of a very expensive-smelling lotion in the palm of one hand, and smoothing her hands together, used her fingertips to gently pat the lotion into Wyatt's exposed skin, taking care not to rub it in and irritate the sensitive areas. "Almost done," Lucy murmured, brushing a delicate kiss across his lips. Remaining silent, his dark blue eyes glowed in response to her tender ministrations.

Finally, Lucy opened a large zip bag and removed a washcloth that had been chilling in the fridge, and draped it over Wyatt's face, telling him to leave it on for a few minutes to soothe his freshly shaved skin. His heartfelt sigh of happiness was all the assurance she needed that he was more than alright with her little surprise.

Lucy quickly gathered up everything from the borrowed shaving kit, and meticulously wiped off each piece and put it away before removing the towel from Wyatt's shoulders and the washcloth from his face. Opening his eyes, Wyatt gave her a lopsided grin that made Lucy tremble, and suddenly, there he was–the Wyatt Logan she met and began falling in love with seven years ago. The only difference she could see was the presence of a few sexy crinkles around his eyes, and oh, yeah, there was the fact that she and Wyatt had been married going on four years now, a scrap of information they'd agreed to keep to themselves in order to preserve as much of their time line as possible.

"How do I look, Mrs. Logan?" Wyatt drawled lazily, looking at her intently. Wordlessly, Lucy shook her head and turned to make sure the door was locked before pouncing on her husband and very thoroughly demonstrating how much she approved of his changed appearance.

The next morning, her Wyatt deliberately sat down for breakfast beside his younger self, both men grinning mischievously at the varying expressions of surprise the others wore. Present Lucy seemed particularly fascinated, and while a part of Lucy ached to tell the younger woman what her future held, it wasn't a good idea because just preventing Rufus' death alone (hopefully) was going to change things enough as it was.

Gazing fondly at her Wyatt, Lucy had no doubts that his beard would eventually return, but that was okay. It had been a wonderful experience, a real treat, to pamper him this way. Wyatt Logan was a dedicated soldier, a fine man, a devoted, loving husband, and considering how insane their lives were right now, she appreciated the opportunity to show him just how much he meant to her. As if sensing her thoughts, Wyatt raised his eyes, and smiling at her, lightly touched his heart and mouthed the words, "I love you." And that was all the thanks Lucy Preston Logan could ever want or need.

 _A/N #2: I hope that by not only getting rid of Future Wyatt's beard (I guess I'm not a fan) but also offering a fairly plausible explanation for Future Lucy's chopped-off hair, this story satisfies the specific prompt (fingers crossed). I worked feverishly on this all day because today (June 14) is the one-year anniversary of the first time I ever wrote and posted anything here (chapter one of First Steps, which I promise, I will finish), and that seemed appropriate to me. My sincere thanks, as always, to everyone who takes the time to read, favorite, follow, and most especially, review my stories, especially those I am unable to reply to. Reviews are like sustenance to a starving person :))_


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